


Presidential Pooch

by Brumeier



Series: The Leader We Deserve [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Politics, M/M, Pandemics, Pets, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: President John Sheppard is on a mission to adopt a dog, and Chief of Staff Evan Lorne is on a mission to get the American public involved by choosing a name. (This means you, readers! I want to know what you think the presidential pooch's name should be!)
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Series: The Leader We Deserve [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692454
Comments: 65
Kudos: 90





	Presidential Pooch

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** These presidential John fics aren't meant to be a deep dive into all the problems our government is having right now. They are my response to a scary, scary world by writing fluffier fics where John is capable and things aren't so bad. So if you're looking for something hard-hitting or more realistic, this isn't for you.

Adopting a dog had been Rodney’s idea, but it was Evan Lorne, John’s Chief of Staff, that had suggested letting the public pick a name. It had taken less than ten minutes for _#presidentialpooch_ to start trending, everyone weighing in on the newest resident of the White House. 

John had already gotten an earful from Rodney even before he got the dog.

_You don’t want one that looks too fierce. That sends the wrong message._

“No hellhounds. Check.”

_And nothing with too much fur in its face. You want a dog that’s going to photograph well._

“No dust mops. Got it.” 

_You know, it wouldn’t kill you to take this seriously._

John tried not to roll his eyes, since he was on a video chat. “I’m taking this as seriously as any other publicity stunt.”

_It’s not just a stunt. Pet adoptions are important._

“Are you forgetting who Liz dumped her stray pets initiative on?” John waited for a snarky reply to that, but all he got was silence and Rodney looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Rodney?”

_It’s important because…because you shouldn’t be alone._

It was funny, how fast John’s throat tightened up. Rodney could be brusque and impatient and frequently downright rude, but he had a mushy center that very few people got to see. John considered himself lucky to be one of those people.

“Okay,” he said. “I get it.”

_Good. I was starting to worry you were losing brain cells. Now, tell me about your latest meeting with Frasier._

John appreciated the change in topic, and the chance to get his emotions under control.

The next day, he and Evan masked and gloved up and headed to Peaceful Valley Animal Sanctuary – with appropriately protected Secret Service agents Teyla and Ronon – to see if there was a perfect match there for John. One that wasn’t too hairy or too angry looking.

“It’s such a pleasure to have you here, Mr. President.” Kay Selvin, the director of the sanctuary, was waiting for them when they arrived.

“John, please. Thank you for making the time.”

All the dog kennels were indoor/outdoor, and at that time of day the dogs were all in the outdoor enclosures to get fresh air and sunshine. John immediately felt overwhelmed. There were so many dogs, all different sizes and breeds.

“How am I supposed to choose?” he asked Evan.

“Just walk around, don’t focus in on any one dog. See where you’re drawn,” Evan advised.

He walked slightly ahead of John, backwards, filming him and taking pictures to document the moment. John was glad he didn’t also have Rodney on video chat, because he’d be an additional distraction.

There were mutts and purebreds, big dogs and small. Some of them cowered in the corner of their enclosures, others jumped up on the chain link fences, tongues lolling. John didn’t want a noisy dog, that was one thing he knew for sure. That would drive Rodney crazy.

“This is impossible,” John complained. “How can I –”

And then he stopped in his tracks. The name tag on the fence said _Moose_ , but John barely noticed it. The dog on the other side was sitting calmly, watching him with big brown eyes. His coat was cream-colored and wiry, and he had a little beard.

“Hey, buddy.” John knelt down and put his fingers through the fence. Moose ambled over and gave them a tentative lick. 

“He’s big,” Evan said.

“He’s a gentle giant.” Kay stood several feet away, hands clasped behind her back. “Moose is an Irish Wolfhound/Lab mix. His previous owners underestimated what his overall size would be, which is how he found himself here. He’s good with other pets, and he’s good with children. No aggression.”

“How old is he?” Evan asked.

“He’s four years old. And all the animals here at the Sanctuary are fully up to date with shots, and they’ve all been spayed or neutered.”

John nodded. The dog sounded perfect, and he was giving off a really cool vibe. Rodney wouldn’t be thrilled by how big he was, but John liked how solid he seemed.

“He’s definitely coming home with me.”

Kay helped them fill out the paperwork and purchase the things Moose would need to get settled in at the White House, including a dog bed, a harness and leash, and some toys. She also recommended a couple of online sources to get pet supplies delivered directly.

Sitting in the back of the presidential SUV with Moose sandwiched between him and Evan, Moose half in his lap, John really got what Rodney had been talking about. He’d never enjoyed all the glad-handing he had to do as a politician, but now that everyone was social distancing, and his husband was so far away, it was really nice to have a warm, solid, breathing creature that he could sling an arm over and hold close.

John had been lonelier than he thought. As always, Rodney had known exactly what he needed.

“I was thinking,” Evan said.

“That can’t be good,” John quipped in return, scratching Moose behind his ear.

“People need something good to focus on right now. Getting the dog is only part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

“We Tweet the new dog and ask the people to help name him. Moose isn’t very presidential. It’ll get them involved and interested, and once the social distancing eases, we can invite the person who chooses the winning name to the White House to get their picture taken with you and the dog.”

John gave that some consideration. He could see the value in getting the American people involved in something positive and fun. There was very little good news to be had during a pandemic, aside from how their strategies were working to keep the virus curve as flat as possible.

People were tired of hearing about the virus.

“Yeah. Okay. That sounds like a great idea. You don’t mind a new name, do you?”

Moose licked the side of John’s face, making him laugh. Getting a dog was a _great_ idea.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156598319@N08/49757477146/in/dateposted-friend/)

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** So how about it, friends? What do you think Moose’s new name should be? I can’t promise the winning entry will get a pic with John Sheppard, but the new name will be featured in the next installment of this series. ::grins::
> 
> Twitter mock-up template courtesy of Unblast.com. Moose (aka Phil) courtesy of Google image search.


End file.
